


Ambrosia at the Cheesecake Factory

by Mithen



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Shopping, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2012-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-23 12:15:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mithen/pseuds/Mithen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Trevor doesn't quite understand why Diana enjoys the mall, but he's happy to go with her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ambrosia at the Cheesecake Factory

More than a few heads turned as the dark-haired woman in black jeans and a long leather jacket strode into the mall. Steve Trevor saw a few speculative looks as well, but most people didn't seem to imagine that the woman pausing to admire a panini press in the window of Williams and Sonoma could possibly be Princess Diana of Themyscira.

"An entire machine dedicated to making sandwiches!" she exclaimed, looking at Steve and shaking her head. "I do not know whether to be amazed or appalled."

She had insisted on what she called "an expedition for cultural understanding" when she first learned that there were places in man's world focused entirely on exchanging paper for goods and services. Since then they had come back many times: Diana seemed to relish the mundanity of the mall more than the actual consumerism, the chance to blend in and seem like a normal couple with Steve.

Well, as much as Wonder Woman could ever be "normal," Steve thought, as a group of teenaged boys did double-takes and tripped over their own feet at the sight of her.

Diana bought a pretzel and they sat on a bench to eat it. She also enjoyed people-watching--observing the crowds milling around, asking Steve about the finer points of their interactions, or adding trenchant commentary of her own. "Young people here seem so uncertain," she said today, watching a clump of awkward girls trip by on high heels, their eager eyes flicking to and past the roughhousing boys.

"We're all pretty uncertain, Angel. Unsure of our role in our life, of our status with the people we care about."

"You have no reason to be," Diana said with one of those smiles that made Steve feel like he was in freefall. She polished off her pretzel and licked salt off her fingers, then stood up. "To the shoes!"

She tried on several pairs of heavy-soled combat boots, a pair of bright red stilettos that were sure to haunt Steve's dreams from now. He knew men who complained about being dragged along shopping, but he was hardly going to gripe about having an excuse to stare at Wonder Woman's legs for an hour.

Eventually she settled on an inexpensive pair of flats with ribbons that laced up around her calves like ballet slippers. "We wore shoes much like this on Paradise Island," she said, placing them gently back in their box.

"So, where would you like to eat?"

"I think the Cheesecake Factory," she announced.

Steve shook his head. "You've eaten ambrosia with the gods, caviar and champagne with heads of state, and you want to go to the Cheesecake Factory."

She reached down and caught up his hand. "Humor me, beloved," she implored, and there was really no answer to that.

"Shall I stop and try some on?" she said as they passed a Frederick's of Hollywood.

Steve swallowed. "Only if you're ready to quell a riot after."

Diana flashed him a mischievous smile and darted into the store, but emerged only moments later with a small bag in her hand that she adamantly refused to share with him. "Later, perhaps," she murmured.

As they settled into the booth at the restaurant, Diana looked at Steve over the top of the massive menu. "I like this," she said with a small smile. At Steve's look of incomprehension, she gestured around the restaurant: screaming children, gossiping friends, couples out on dates. "I like being part of the world, this great huge world." She reached out and took his hand, smiling. "With you."

After that, as far as Steve Trevor was concerned, his meal was ambrosia indeed.


End file.
